


Blood of the Wolf

by OfMirthAndTears



Series: By the Moon's Light [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Nymphadora Tonks Lives, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Bonding, Remus Lupin Lives, Sirius Black Lives, Werewolf!Teddy Lupin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-20 11:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10661871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfMirthAndTears/pseuds/OfMirthAndTears
Summary: The war is over and, under his parents' watchful eyes, Teddy Lupin is off to his first year at Hogwarts. But as old tensions rise, Ted finds himself in the middle of a battle of his father's nightmares.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fix it fic. Mostly DH compliant, except Remus, Tonks and Sirius survive. 
> 
> In this fic, Ted did inherit his father's lycanthropy. I treat the condition much like a "muggle" blood disorder, with the lycanthropy triggering at the age of six for Ted. 
> 
> I also put more emphasis on the wolf's effect on the werewolf psyche, with it becoming more noticeable closer to the full moon. I welcome any questions that may arise.

Ted Lupin only had a second to right himself upwards after the toe of his boots caught on the wheel of his trolley before he went sprawling. He could feel his body tipping forward and he flailed - reaching for something to hold onto. _Shit!_

A hand closed around his shoulder and Ted could hear a low chuckle in his ear. As he balanced himself, he shot a scowl at his father. “It’s not funny, Dad!”

Remus instantly arranged his face into a mild expression. “Of course it’s not.” Behind him, his wife was smiling as she scanned the platform. 

“Two left feet on you, that’s all that is, love,” she said. “Alright - through the wall, we’re very nearly late!” 

“Not my fault that Bastet wouldn’t get in his cage,” Ted complained, looking reproachfully at the tabby cat crouched in a traveling crate. 

“No, but it is your fault for choosing such a temperamental cat,” Remus said, steering his son towards the brick wall between Platforms 9 and 10 of King’s Cross Station. “Quickly now!”

Ted set off at a brisk walk, before breaking into a jog as he raced through the wall. He only just heard his father’s warning of “Slowdown, Edward!” before he was through and the sight of another trolley ahead filled his vision. He let out a shout and hastily jerked the trolley to the right - sending Bastet’s crate flying into the air. 

“Shit” He dove for the yowling cat. But then, the cage and cat were floating in the air, Bastet still shrieking to the heavens. 

“Edward,” Remus sighed, wand lazily flicking through the air as he directed the cage back to Ted’s trolley. “You really must be more careful.” He turned to the owners of the trolley that Ted nearly ran into. “I really am so sorry. He’s usually not so impatient.” 

“That’s just not true,” Tonks muttered as she ducked through the magical barrier. Nonetheless, she smiled brightly at the other family, spitting hair out of her mouth. “Wotcher! Sorry about that!”

The trolley’s owner - a small boy with strawberry blonde hair and vivid freckles - blinked rather owlishly at Tonks from behind his thick spectacles. His mother, a willowy woman with the same hair color, looked rather peeved at Ted, but offered Remus a small smile. Tonks, Ted noticed, warranted only a lingering, distantly disapproving, glance over her plum robes and bubblegum pink hair. 

“It’s no bother,” she said, placing a hand on her son’s forearm. “I was just telling Paul that he ought to move out of the way before he gets barrelled over by someone coming through.”

Ted flushed. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Paul said, smiling at Ted. “Didn’t hit me, did you? How’s the cat?”

Inside his crate, Bastet hissed at Ted. “He’ll live,” Ted sighed. “Bloody cat from hell, that one is.”

“Language, Ted!”

“Sorry, Mum!”

“Are you a first-year?” Paul asked Ted, as the two pushed trolleys down the packed platform. 

“Yeah!” Ted scanned the area - it was hard to see through the billowing steam coming off of the Hogwarts express. “Dad?” He called ahead, where Remus and Tonks were chatting with Paul’s mother, who had introduced herself as Lucille Hendricks. “Where do you think they are?”

No sooner had he asked, there came a sweep of whispers and the crowd parted, students staring with wide eyes as a group of people hurried towards them. Ted couldn’t help but grin as he saw Sirius Black, dressed impeccably in leather trousers and dark robes, Harry Potter, glasses lopsided, and Ginny Potter right behind two, the former clutching young James’ arm in one hand. 

“Is that Harry Potter?” Paul whispered, sounding awed. “I’ve only read about him. What do you think he’s doing here - “ 

He cut off with an amazed gasp as Ted rushed forward and beamed up at his godfather. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to come!” 

Harry laughed as he pulled Ted into a one-armed hug. “I told the Minister that I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Plus, if your mother gets to skip work, then…” He winked at Tonks, who had approached with Remus upon seeing the new arrivals. 

Tonks scowled. “I’ll have you know that I’m taking vacation hours for this… Kingsley wouldn’t let me go just off the cuff like this. If anyone is skipping, it’s you.” 

Harry pressed a finger to his lips, and Ted sniggered, before looking at the two people to Harry. “Hi, Aunt Ginny! Hi Sirius!” 

“Hey, squirt!” Sirius clapped Ted on the back. “Big day, eh?” He grinned down at the young Lupin, the light catching on his strong white teeth. 

Ginny pressed a kiss to his forehead. “What’s up, kid? Sorry, Lily and Albus couldn’t make it. Al woke up sick and we didn’t want to wake Lily…” 

“I’m here!” James announced loudly, throwing his arms around Ted. “Please don’t go!” He looked up at Ted, hair disheveled and eyes nearly brimming with tears. 

“I’ll be back at Christmas,” Ted promised. “And I’ll send you lots and lots of letters!”

“Really?” 

“Really. And you better send me lots of pictures so I can hang them up and show off what a good artist you are.”

Harry snorted into his sleeve at that, and Ted nearly regretted his words. James was certainly an enthusiastic artist; he knew for a fact that Harry’s office at the MInistry was papered with James’ crayon stick-figure drawings of his family, hippogriffs and Quidditch stars. 

Remus had pulled out his pocketwatch and was frowning at it. “We better load your luggage, Ted. Train is set to depart in a few.” 

“Oh, relax, Moony,” Sirius grumbled. “Give us a few more minutes with the kid, why don’t you? I haven’t seen him in ages” 

“You would have seen him more if you hadn’t decided to take an impromptu trip to Venezuela in July.”

“Which you were welcome to join, by the way. But _someone_ had work to do.”

“Not all of us were born with silver spoons in our mouths and a vault full of gold, Padfoot.” 

“Oh, look at you!” Tonks said loudly, her voice drowning out her husband and cousin’s bickering. She cupped Ted’s face in her hands. “Headed off to Hogwarts… You better be a Hufflepuff or we’ll disown you!” 

“She’s joking,” Remus said as he unloaded Ted’s trunk from the trolley. “Plus,” he added. “Ted is obviously a Gryffindor!”

James and Ted laughed as Tonks swatted her husband in the arm, and then changed her hair to yellow and black swirls for good measure. 

Harry hugged Ted again. “Wherever you end up, mate, you’ll do fine!”

“Don’t hesitate to write us as well,” Ginny said as James resumed his hugging of Ted’s legs. “And we’ll see you at holidays!” 

“We better see you at holidays,” Sirius warned. “I’ll show up at the school and drag you back myself.” 

“Dad will see you at the feast,” Tonks said, kissing Ted on both of his cheeks. “And I’ll see you later this month.” She kissed the tip of his nose. 

“Mum! Stop it!” 

“Absolutely not, Teddy love. Goodness, what are we going to do with him, Remus?” 

“Apparently disown him if he’s not in Hufflepuff,” Remus said dryly. Turning to Ted, he said, “You’ll be fine. Sorting is the easy bit - “ 

“Uncle George said you have to fight a dragon!” James said helpfully. 

“ - it’s all pretty straightforward,” Remus finished, ignoring James’ remark, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And do try to socialize a bit on the train. Don’t forget about Paul here.” 

With a start, Ted realized that he had completely forgotten about Paul Hendricks. “Sorry mate!” 

Paul was standing there, mouth open and eyes bulging as he stared at him. “That’s...that’s Harry Potter. And Sirius Black,” he whispered. 

“Yes, and they're both great big tossers,” Tonks said, shepherding the two first-years towards the train. “Don’t repeat that James! Or you, Ted!” 

“You know Harry Potter?” Paul said to Ted as the two boarded the train, dragging trunks behind them. He still sounded lost-for-words. 

“He’s my godfather,” Ted said, smiling a little. He was used to people being stunned at Uncle Harry. He knew that Harry was the Savior of the Wizarding World, youngest Head of Aurors in a century, but to Ted, he was just his Quidditch-loving, awkward and a bit goofy, Uncle Harry. 

“One minute, Ted.”

Remus stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking uncharastically awkward as he shifted from foot to foot. “A quick word?”

“Make it quick, Remus,” Ginny warned. “We don’t want Ted to miss the train and have to fly a car to school.”

The family erupted in laughter as Harry protested, and Remus smiled faintly as he led Ted a short distance away from the train. Ted saw out of the corner of his eye his mother and Sirius shooting glances at them. 

“Now, I don’t want to alarm you,” Remus began quietly. “But…” He sighed and tugged on the ends of his hair. “The Ministry sent an owl this morning. From the Registrar.”

Ted’s heart fell. “What do they want?”

“They...they are requesting that during the announcements…” Remus’ face darkened. “That the Headmistress make public our...conditions."

Ted could feel his hair start to leak color - the blue strands slowly fadng to gray at the tips. “Oh.” 

His father looked incredibly uncomfortable as he stared at his shoes. “Of course, they know about me, so it’s more...announcing you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Without meaning for it to happen, Ted could feel tears starting to prick at his eyes. “Just gotta be the school freak.”

“You’re not a freak,” Remus said sharply and he bent down to that his eyes were at the same level of his son’s. “You’re not a freak,” he repeated, hands coming to rest on Ted’s shoulders. “Absolutely not. I won’t hear that sort of talk from you.” 

“Well, that’s what they’ll all think.” 

Remus hesitated. “It’s...quite possible that there will be backlash. But that’s not to concern you just yet,” he added hurridly. “The student body has been, well, far more pleasant than when I first taught. But...if anything is to happen, you come straight to me, do you understand?” 

Ted thought his father looked suddenly rather fierce as he spoke. The older werewolf’s amber eyes glinted with a sharp golden light for just a moment - was it just a catch of the sunlight or something more? 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” Ted said quietly, bobbing his head. At his father’s concerned raise of the brows, Ted forced his hair to resume its vivid turquoise, now with added streaks of pink. Remus looked a bit more relieved at that and ruffled Ted’s hair affectionately before pulling him into a loose hug. Ted, almost instinctively, turned to rub his jaw over his father’s. 

God, sometimes Ted hated the wolf. It was so simple the way it sneaked into his daily life, the way it drew a thin but definitive line between him and the rest of the world. The food he preferred, the way he picked up senses on the wind. The fact that a simple expression of primitive affection between their small pack sent a rush of comfort through Ted’s body. And it was true, as the two werewolves paused for a moment, Ted still carefully tucked into his father’s embrace and their pack bond hummed with familial love, Ted could feel his father’s body relax even as his arms tightened momentarily, protectively, around Ted. Ted knew his father was there for him, always, more than anyone, and would run to the ends of the world if Ted needed help. _Dad would take care of him, it was going to be okay._

“Ted, you’ve got to go - now! Stop dawdling!” 

Remus leaned back, shooting a small smile back at the group. “Calm down, Harry! He’s coming!” 

He stood and guided Ted back to the train and Ted tried to put on a smile. James was bouncing on the balls of his feet as the two Lupins approached.

“You’re going to be late, Ted! You’ll have to stay with us!” 

“What - and share a room with you and Al?” Ted scoffed, dropping a kiss on the child’s head. “I’d rather eat my socks.”

Harry pulled him into a one-armed hug and made Ted promise to write to him. “Not every week, but enough so that I don’t get worried!” Ginny kissed his cheek again and said that she’d tell George to send a box of Weasley Wizard Wheezes goods. “You’re not to use it on your roommates or professors!” She added with a wink. Sirius promised to send him a care box of as well. 

“If you get a spare piece of parchment in it, don’t throw it out!” Which for some reason caused Remus to roll his eyes.

Tonks drew Ted into a long hug and nearly squeezed the breath out of him. 

“You be a good lad, you hear? Listen to your professors and don’t get into too much trouble. No pranks until you’re all settled!” 

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me to not pull pranks at all?”

Tonks grinned at him. “Well, that’d be useless, wouldn’t it? If you’re anything like your father and me, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.” She kissed him on both cheeks and she hugged him once more. “I love you so much Ted, and do - do be sure to talk to your father if you have any...any problems.” Her gaze turned serious for a moment and her eyes flickered to her husband. “We’re all on your side, darling.”

“I know, Mum.” He smiled softly at her. “I love you too.”

“Good boy,” she whispered, patting him on the cheek. She stood up and cleared her throat. “Now off you go! Before the train leaves without you! Don’t forget Paul! Poor kid looked like he was about to pass out. And don’t forget - think Hufflepuff!” 

“Or Gryffindor!” Sirius chimed in as he helped Ted up onto the train. “Red and gold!

“Red and gold!” James shouted in glee.

Ted clambered up and into the mass of students crowded around, waving at parents and family. He managed to squeeze between two burly students to poke his head out of a window.

“Goodbye, love!” Tonks shouted. “Be safe!” 

“Make friends!” Remus added, raising one hand in a farewell wave. The other arm was wrapped around his wife’s shoulders casually. 

“Don’t get into any fights!” Harry yelled. On top of his shoulders, James waved both hands wildly. Sirius looked proud as the wind swept his robes around his thin frame. Ginny blew kisses. Paul’s mother was sobbing openly into a lacy handkerchief while an elderly balding man - who looked as though he could be Paul’s grandfather - patted her on the back.

Ted waved back. His mother was crying, god she always cried, and her husband offered her a handkerchief. Remus looked almost sad to see Ted go. Content, but sad around the edges. Course, he had it easy. He had been Hogwarts’ Defense Against the Dark Arts professor since Ted was eight - he’d get to see Ted nearly every day for the next seven years. Still, Ted kept waving at his parents and family until the group of six disappeared into the steam and crowd of parents at the 9 ¾ platform. 

He turned and grinned at Paul, who was standing just behind him, looking a bit flushed. “Shall we find a compartment?” 

It took them a while to find an empty room. Most of the train’s compartments had been filled by older students. A group of rowdy Gryffindor boys offered to make room for the two first-years, but Ted caught sight of a box of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in the corner and the wicked gleam to some of the boys’ smiles and he promptly steered Paul away. Another group of dreamy eyed Ravenclaws and Slytherins offered to read their tarot cards for free. Paul seemed very interested in this until he stuck his head into the compartment and caught whiff of the green smoke that seemed to be coming from the cigarettes they were smoking and he reeled. 

Eventually, they found a nearly empty room near the back of the train. It only contained three students - two boys and a girl - in there, and they appeared to be about the same age as Ted and Paul. 

“Mind if we sit in here?” Paul asked, fidgeting with his glasses nervously. 

A dark-skinned boy with a shaved head looked up from his lap, where he appeared to be sorting through chocolate frog cards. “Yeah, sure. You got a Bowman Wright?”

“Nope,” Ted said. “But if I find one, he’s yours.” 

The boy grinned, showing off a mouth of uneven teeth. “Cool.”

Ted and Paul stuffed their trunks in the bins overhead and then took their seats. The boy with the shaved head resumed surveying his card collection with a frown, then held one out to the other boy sitting opposite of him. This boy swept his long chestnut hair out of his face as he considered the card; he held a half-eaten chocolate cauldron in the other hand. He quirked an eyebrow at it and then turned his attention to Ted. 

“Your hair is blue.”

Ted sat down next to him and beamed. “Watch this.” He screwed his face up for a moment, thinking, and promptly turned his hair green. 

The brunette’s eyes bulged. “Wicked! How can you do that?”

“I’m a Metamorphmagus. Means I can change my appearance whenever I want.” 

“Sweet. That’ll come in handy,” the boy with the shaved head sniggered. “Can you impersonate like, anyone?”

“My mom is better at it than I am.” Ted settled back in his seat. “But I’m alright.”

“Your mom is a Meta-morpha-blah too?”

“Yeah.”

“Sweet.”

Paul took this lull in conversation to begin peppering Ted with questions about being a metamorphmagus. Ted consented to one pig-nose morph, which drew cheers from Paul and the brunette, and the girl by the window just rolled her eyes. 

Outside the window, the Hogwarts express was rolling through the countryside now, small towns giving way to mountains and rolling forests. A deer poked her head out of the brush and then lept back as the train rushed by with a roar. Ted bought some cauldron cakes and chocolate wands from the trolley lady, a kind elderly witch with flyaway grey hair, and he dug out some cat treats to feed to a sulking Bastet.

The bald boy was staring at his cards again. 

“I’ll give you a Dumbledore for Morrigan.” 

“Bullshit,” the brunette laughed. ”Dumbledore for a Morrigan? That’s not a fair trade.” 

The first boy scowled, then turned to Ted and Paul. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Marcus Walsh. Do you have cards on you?” 

“Ted Lupin. And no, I left my cards at home.” 

“Paul Hendricks -” Paul began before he was cut off by the brunette's exclamation of “Wow! Are you related to Professor Lupin?”

Ted felt his face go red. “Yeah… He’s my dad.” 

“Wow!” The boy’s dark eyes were huge. “That’s so cool.”

“He’s the werewolf, isn’t he?” The girl remarked. Her voice was cool and she did not look up from her book as she spoke. 

Paul’s mouth dropped. “A werewolf?” 

“Shove off, Teresa,” Marcus snapped. “Nobody asked for your opinion.” 

Teresa sniffed. “A decent professor, but still…” She delicately turned the page. “Still a werewolf.”

“Ignore my sister,” the brunette boy muttered to Ted and Paul. “She thinks she knows more than us just because she’s a third year.”

“I do know more than you, Herrington.” 

“Didn’t you hear what Marcus said? Shove off!” Herrington flicked a empty chocolate frog wrapper at Teresa. She eyed the aluminium as it floated to the ground and offered the boys a cock of her eyebrow. 

“Whatever,” Herrington humphed. He turned back to Ted. “Sorry about that. She can be a right menace - comes with being a Travers.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ted murmured, eyes locked on his shoes. He really should retie those laces - his right shoe was beginning to come undone. “Can be expected.”

Herrington pursed his lips. “I hear he’s a right good teacher.” 

“The best!” Marcus added eagerly, leaning forward in his seat. He had seemingly forgotten his chocolate frog horde. “My cousin Philippa - she’s a fifth year - says he’s a genius!” 

“He’s a werewolf?” Paul repeated. 

All eyes swiveled to the bespectacled boy, who visibly paled under their gazes. 

“Yeah,” Ted began awkwardly. He never knew how to approach this conversation. “Is..is that a problem?”

Paul chewed on his bottom lip. Adjusted his glasses. “Well...isn’t that a bit, er, dangerous?”

Ted shrugged. “He’s normal enough the rest of the days of the month. And he’s on Wolfsbane - that lets him stay, well, him, during the moon and he locks himself up…”

“Oh.” Paul appeared thoughtful. “Well, that doesn’t sound too bad… He seemed very nice at the platform.”

“You’ll like him as soon as you meet him,” Herrington assured. 

“Phillipa says he’s an absolute riot! His boggart lesson in third year is one of the best lessons she’s every had! And we get to catch red caps in the Black Lake!”

Paul brightened. “He seems all-right.” 

Teresa snorted. “For a werewolf.” She stood up, gathering her book and skirt as she rose. “I’m going to go find more mature company, if you four are going to keep going on about this nonsense.” She flounced out of the compartment, shooting a look at Ted as she passed.

The compartment was silence after she left. Ted picked at his jumper. 

“You know…” He might as well just get this over with. They'd all know soon enough. “I’m, er, also...a, er…werewolf.” 

He had never told anyone that he was a werewolf. Everyone he knew that knew were either family or Ministry workers. The childhood friends that he met at the local parks were mainly muggles. Wizarding families knew about Dad and typically steered their children away from the Lupin family alltogether. 

So he didn’t know quite what to expect when he told Paul Hendricks, Marcus Walsh and Herrington Travers that he was a werewolf. 

Marcus looked up from his cards with raised eyebrows. Herrington paused, mouth half-open as he was about to take a bite of his cake. Paul practically fell out of his seat. 

“Oh, get up mate,” Marcus snapped at Paul. “It’s not that bad.”

“Are you really?” Herrington asked as Paul picked himself off the floor, spluttering as he adjusted his glasses. 

“Erm, yeah.” Ted shifted in his seat and examined his nails in what he hoped was a casual manner. 

“That’s wicked!” 

Ted looked up and frowned. 

Herrington was grinning broadly at him, chocolate frog cards and cauldron cakes abandoned. “That’s so cool! So you’re like...uber magical!” 

“Mate, stop wanking him just ‘cause he wants to show off,” Marcus sniggered. “He’s a werewolf and a metamorphmagus, so what” His tone wasn’t unfriendly and he lounged backwards in his seat with a grin. “Big whoop. He looks normal to me. ‘Cept the hair of course.” 

“Have you ever like...bitten anyone?” Herrington asked, seemingly oblivious to Marcus’ amusement. “Are you transforming at Hogwarts? Can we see?”

“No,” Ted said quickly. “No, my - my dad and I are locked up every month. We’re not going to be at Hogwarts, either.” He didn’t think it prudent to answer the last one. Thankfully, Marcus seemed to pick up on his discomfort. 

“Hey, Herrington, lay off. He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Herrington’s eyes doubled in size. “Oh, shit - sorry, Teddy. I didn’t - I just -” 

“It’s fine!” Ted shuffled in his seat and laced his fingers together. “It’s just...it sort of sucks. I don’t really think it’s cool. It blows, to be honest. A lot. But we work through it...”

“The Ministry doesn’t really like werewolves, does it?” Paul asked quietly. 

Ted looked sideways at Paul. The young wizard’s face was pale and his freckles stood out vividly, but still, he looked Ted straight in the face and smiled slightly, only just. A pull on the corner of his lips that wasn’t quiet friendly, but not hostile. 

“No, they don’t,” Ted said after a moment. “It was tough even getting me to Hogwarts. They didn’t like the idea of me putting other students in danger. They make me and Dad go away every month so we don’t get out.”

Another beat of silence.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Marcus announced. 

“Yeah!” Herrington chimed it. “Stick it to the man!”

“Stick it to the man,” Paul echoed and smiled, a true-smile this time that lit up his face. 

Marcus and Herrington resumed their card trading, the former persistently trying to trade away the lone Dumbledore card. Paul watched with interest and even joined in helping Marcus try to convince Herrington to give up his precious cards. 

Ted watched silently, a happy, warm feeling settling in his chest. So was this what it was like to have friends? Real friends, not cousins or parents or muggle children on the playground. Maybe, just maybe, the year wouldn’t be off to as bad of a start as he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly nightfall by the time the Hogwarts Express reached Hogsmeade. As the tops of the town’s rooftops peaked over the horizon, dark shadows set against the pinks and purples of a setting sun, Paul suggested that they change into their robes. 

“What house do you think you’re going to be in?” Marcus asked as he pulled off his t-shirt. 

“Probably Slytherin,” Herrington sighed. “Every Travers is a Slytherin. Would love to break tradition, but if not, hey, it’s not that bad. Slytherin has gotten the Quidditch Cup for the last five years so it’d be cool to be apart of a winning house."

“Ravenclaw might give them a run for their money,” Marcus said, shaking a finger at Herrington. “They’ve been trying to build up their team to take the snakes down.”

Herrington shook his head. “Not gonna happen - the snakes are unbeatable!” He rose his arms into the air and beat his chest with a roar. 

Ted sniggered. Buttoning up his shirt he asked Paul, “What about you? Any house preference?”

Paul fidgeted with his tie and shrugged. “I dunno. My dad was a Ravenclaw, apparently, but he’s not a nice guy so I don’t know if I want to be like him. And my mum is a muggle. Gryffindor, maybe? I don’t know much about Slytherin or Hufflepuff.”

“Hufflepuff is loyal, Ravenclaws are smart,” Herrington ticked off on his fingers. “Gryffindors are brave and Slytherins are ambitious.” 

“Gryffindor is the best house,” Marcus said, waggling his brows. “My uncle said if I’m not a lion he’s going to disinherit me.”

“My mum said the same thing if I’m not a Hufflepuff,” Ted said as he examined his reflection in the window and straightened his tie. “I think she was joking,” he added at Paul’s horrified look. 

“My uncle wasn’t,” Marcus said sourly. “Old wanker would do it in a second.” 

Herrington opened his mouth to respond, but before he could the train lurched to a halt and he was nearly thrown into Marcus’ lap. 

“First years off the train first!” A sharp command echoed around the compartment. Distantly, Ted could hear the message echoing through other areas of the train and there was a great movement as students along the express began to shuffle into the corridor. 

“Come on,” Herrington said as he untangled himself from Marcus’ limbs. “No, leave your stuff, Paul. The house-elves will get it.”

“House-elves?” Paul wondered as he followed Ted out of the compartment. 

“Yeah, you know - they take care of your house? Do your laundry and stuff?”

“So, like servants,” Paul said with a frown. 

“It’s complicated,” Marcus shrugged. “Big movement to free them, but they like serving wizards, ya know? My dad mentioned setting our old Peeky free and the poor thing nearly hurled herself out of a second-story window. She’s been with us for years and couldn’t imagine life without being apart of the family…” 

“Jesus,” Paul murmured. “That’s terrible.”

Herrington bumped shoulders with Paul. “You’ll hear a lot about it coming up - big reforms are coming up for part-humans. That’s what my dad says. House-elves, centaurs, werewolves…” He shot a look at Ted before continuing. “They want their rights, ya know? That’s why this house-elf business is so dodgy cause not all of them want to be free.”

“That’s not right,” Paul interrupted. “They deserve equal rights with other wizards.” 

“You’re right, but that’s not how they see it.” 

Paul fell silent, but his face remained creased in a frown. 

“Merlin, I never knew how big this place was,” Herrington said loudly as he stepped off the train onto the Hogsmeade platform.

It was true, Ted had to agree. The platform was huge - even as it slowly filled up with students. It appeared that not many had headed the first-years first rule and he could see older students sidestepping confused groups of first years as they made a beeline for an exit on the far end of the platform. 

All around them were tall buildings, cracked and worn bricks teeming with unkempt ivy. Brightly lit lanterns floated above them and cast warm shadows across the train platform. Ted had been to Hogsmeade before and he knew that just beyond them stood the charming village, full of shops and restaurants and, in particular, one of his father’s favorite bookstores. Over the crowd, Ted could hear a familiar bellow ringing across the platform. 

“FIRS’ YEARS! FIRS’ YEARS THIS WAY!” A humanoid shape - far too larger to be human -appeared at the far end of the station and began to lumber over the tops of crowds.

Ted tried not to laugh at Marcus and Paul’s startled expression. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just Hagrid.”

“What the hell is a Hagrid?” 

Ted grinned brightly up at the man in question as they drew away from the platform and to the half-giant. Hagrid’s face split into a toothy grin at the sight of Ted. 

“Well, if it isn’t lil’ Ted Lupin! Jus’ yesterday you were a lil’ tyke in yer dad’s arms.” Hagrid beamed, then caught sight of Marcus, Paul and Herrington. “And who might you all be?”

“Hi Hagrid!” Ted swept an arm towards the three boys following him, Paul still looking vaguely intimated by the eleven-foot tall man in front of them. “This is Paul, Marcus and Herrington. They’re first years too!” 

“Hello, sir,” Paul mumbled. 

Hagrid looked around. “Looks like we’re still waiting on a few. ANY MORE FIRS” YEARS?!” He bellowed this last line to the platform, making Paul and several other first years jump. 

“I think this is all of us,” a blonde girl standing behind Marcus piped up. 

Could it really be? Ted wondered. There weren’t many of them at all. Couldn’t be more than twenty, including Ted, Marcus, Paul and Herrington. Hagrid seemed to have noticed this as well and he looked around the now nearly-empty platform, as if expecting more young wizards to spring up from the scrubbed floor-boards. 

“Ah, well…” He seemed at a loss of words for a second, before he plastered a smile on his face. “Not a problem! Gives us a lil’ bit mo’ room!” He gathered himself up to his full height and looked over at the small crowd and declared, “Follow me!” 

Hagrid led the group away from the platform and down a well-trodden dirt path. In the quickly dimming light, Ted could lanterns sparking with fire along the path that cast warm, cheerful shadows dancing around the surrounding brush and trees. 

“Do you know where we’re going?” Herrington whispered to Ted.

Ted shook his head.His mother had been pretty insistent on not telling Ted anything about the sorting ceremony. “It’s tradition!” Tonks had cried, hushing her husband, who had opened his mouth to answer Ted. Remus had sighed at his wife, looked apologetically at Ted before he disappeared behind a newspaper to avoid Ted's tirade of question. 

“Here we are,” Hagrid said, coming to a stop. 

Straining his eyes, Ted peeked around Hagrid and was rather surprised to see a small fleet of wooden boats rocking in the bank of a lake. They didn’t look very sturdy, but Hagrid seemed confident as he clambered into one and began directing the students into boats. 

“Alright, usually we group up, but there aren’t many of you so just pick a boat quickly!” 

Ted found himself seated with Paul and Marcus - Herrington claimed an entire boat to himself, despite other first years’ protests. With them all scattered amongst the boats, they looked like an even smaller group, Ted thought with a sinking feeling. Several students had their own boats, but even then there were several unattended ones lonely bobbing up and down in the lake. 

Hagrid was looking around, seemingly doing a quick headcount of the students. “Everyone ready? Alright - hold on tight!” He procured a long wand from one of his many coat pockets and gave it a sharp flick, muttering something under his breath. With a loud BANG, there was a jolt as all the boats jerked forward and began moving, Hagrid at the helm, as they rushed into the lake. Wind whipped around them and Ted thought this must be what it was like to ride a muggle speedboat. 

“This is all pretty medieval,” Marcus muttered. “How long do you think this will take? It’s bloody cold.” 

Ted had to agree - it was rather chilly as the boats carried them on the surface of the lake. Around the banks, Ted could see tall trees reaching up towards the now-completely dark sky. Stars and the waxing moon were shining above them and around them, reflected in the deep dark color of the lake’s surface. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” Hagrid warned suddenly. 

Ted looked around to see a startled redheaded boy reaching over the side of his boat to run his hand in the water.

“Why not?” 

“The giant squid, of course,” a girl in the same boat said. Her hair was piled on top of her head in an elaborate bun and her horn-rimmed spectacles flashed in the dim light. “My mam says it’s very easy to annoy.”

“There’s not a squid in there,” the redhead shot back, but he withdrew his hand quickly and did not look at the water. 

“Look up ahead!” Hagrid shouted from the front, casting a hand forward to point. 

For a moment, there was just the dark line of the trees, but then the small fleet rounded the curve of the lake and there was an audible gasp from the group. 

Hogwarts Castle stood before them, tall, dark and magnificent, and illuminated with hundreds of glowing golden windows. Turrets and towers reached up into the night sky - Ted knew the tallest was the Astronomy Tower, and he thought he spotted Gryffindor Tower, but as the boats quickly glided closer to the castle’s base, he lost sight.

The boats slowed as they approached a small cavern at the castle’s base, partially shielded by a curtain of heavy vines. Hagrid raised his wand and, with a long sweep of his arm, the greenery was pulled to one side, allowing just enough room for the boats to sail through, though Hagrid still had to stoop as to not hit his head on the cavern’s rough ceiling. 

The inside of the grotto was dim, lighted only by large torches bolted to the walls. The walls were pitted and the ceiling wet and dripping. The bespectacled girl gave a squeal as a trickle of slime and water narrowly avoided hitting her. Paul had to clap a hand over Marcus’ mouth to keep from snickering too loudly. 

They came to a bumpy rest against carved stone and grimy steps that rose directly from the murky water; Hagrid was the first to rise and quickly began directing first years out of the boats. 

“Mind yer’ step! Don’t want to get yer robes all wet before dinner, heh!”

“This is nuts,” Paul mumbled to Ted as they sat in a rocking boat, waiting for Marcus to climb out. “I’d rather have walked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ted whispered back. He stood to dismount. _Merlin, the boat was awfully unsteady._ He gripped one side of the boat as he began taking hesitant steps, eyeing the water critically. _And Merlin, that water looked cold. Maybe if he took bigger steps?_

Ted’s foot caught on the side of the boat as he stepped out and he pitched forward. His hands scrabbled for the boat, for Paul, for anything to hold him steady but it was too late. 

SPLASH. 

The only thing stopping Ted from falling completely into the lake was a pair of large hands grabbing the back of his robes, but even then his head and shoulders were completely submerged for a second. 

“Watch yerself Lupin!” Hagrid hauled Ted back onto the steps. “What did I just say! “Got t’watch yer steps!” His tone was disapproving, but he was smiling. “Yer almost as bad as yer mum!”

“Sorry, sir!” Ted gasped, pushing sopping water out of his eyes. “My foot - it just - “ 

“Oh my god, Ted!” Marcus and Herrington were roaring with laughter, the later having fallen against the topmost step as he clutched at his stomach.

“That was great!” Herrington wheezed, wiping at his eyes. “Just brilliant.”

“Glad you think so,” Ted snapped. He could feel his face blushing bright red. Looking around, the rest of the first years were all staring at him, most of them sniggering or laughing. Even Paul was struggling not to giggle. Ted’s face went even more red.

“It’s not that bad,” Paul tried to reassure Ted, “It’s just...a little bit of water.” He was silenced by the murderous look that Ted shot at him. 

"Here you go, lad," Hagrid said, taking out his wand. The half-giant frowned in concentration and muttered under his breath as he gave the wand a complicated wave. Hot air began to stream out of the tip of the wand and Hagrid looked pleased. He began to quickly dry Ted off, and Ted instantly realized that the air was far too hot. Was that his robes burning? 

"I'm fine! Thanks Hagrid!" Ted said quickly. The half-giant beamed at him and lumbered away. Ted's hair was still a bit damp and, if he had to guess by Herrington's sniggers, his face was still beat-red. 

_What a mess_ , Ted thought as Hagrid led them up the stairs and through a wide stone hallway. _Not even the start of the semester and I’ve already done myself in.”_

“Cheer up!” Herrington said to Ted, slinging an arm over the other wizard’s shoulders. “You can’t be the only one to fall into the lake!” 

“Bound to happen every year!” Marcus chimed in. 

Ted smiled weakly at the two. He couldn’t blame them, or Paul, for trying. It _was_ pretty funny. 

“Alright!” Hagrid announced, stopping at the end of the hallway, in front of a set of other stairs. These stairs, unlike the ones in the cavern, were scrubbed clean and far more intricately carved. There were stretches that looked newer, as if large chunks of the stairs and walls had been discarded then replaced. Ted couldn't help but wonder - he had read that parts of the castle had to be replaced after the War. Was this one of those places? Had Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix really fought here, on these steps? 

“You’ll wait here until the Deputy Headmistress comes to get yer!” Hagrid continued, looking across at the group of first years. He caught Ted’s eye and winked. ““Good luck with the Sorting! Welcome to Hogwarts!” Seemingly satisfied with that short speech,the half-giant turned to lumber up the stairs, and disappeared through a set of large wooden doors.

There was a moment of silence as the small group stared after him.

“What an oaf,” a dark haired boy near the front muttered.

“That’s not nice,” the redheaded boy who had stuck his hand into the lake said instantly. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” The first one shot back. “It’s true!”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know he’s a half-giant.” 

“Shut your mouth.”

“He is though!”

“Does it matter?” Another girl piped up. Her blonde hair was done up in thick braids on either side of her head. “He seems kind! He helped him out of the water!” She pointed to Ted, who flushed even more.

“Yeah, just shut up, mate!” Herrington snapped at the dark haired boy. “You’re a Burke aren’t you? Figures you’d be trash.” 

“That’s coming from a Travers,” Burke sneered. 

“Be quiet, both of you,” the bespectacled girl sighed. She had produced a book from the depth of her robe and was flipping through it slowly. “It doesn’t matter if you’re a half-breed or not, Burke or Travers. Just mind your own business. Goodness, you’re fighting like little boys.”

“Stay out of it, Loretta.”

“Fine,” Loretta said, looking at Burke over the tops of her glasses. “Get in trouble before the Sorting. That’ll make your mummy happy, won’t it?”

“Why I oughta - “ 

“Having fun?” 

The entire group jumped at the sudden interruption of a cool voice. 

Coming down the steps was a tall, rather austere looking woman with long black hair and dark plum robes. Her pointed witch hat was dappled with embroidered stars. Ted vaguely recognized her from the staff end of year parties that his father took his wife and son to. 

“Of course,” Burke said, taking steps back away from Loretta and Herrington. “Just getting to know each other.” 

The professor pursed her lips, but turned away from them to address the larger group. “Well… Hello!” She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled. Ted thought the smile made her look far less severe. “Welcome to Hogwarts! My name is Professor Sinistra and I am the Astronomy professor here, and the Deputy Headmistress. Through these doors you will enter the Great Hall and be presented to Hogwarts for the first time. You will wait to be Sorted into a House. There are four Houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. These houses will be your families over the next seven years, but the staff hopes that you will make friends in other Houses. Hogwarts boasts a diverse and dynamic student body and we want to make you thrive during your time here.” She took a breath and Ted got the impression she did not often talk this much. “Are there any questions?”

The blonde girl with braids raised her hand. “Um, what exactly is the sorting?”

Professor Sinistra smiled again. “Well, let’s go find out, shall we?” She turned and beckoned the group to follow her. Whispering to each other, they did, Ted feeling vaguely sick. Would they be sorted in front of everyone? Everyone would get to see them? What if he wasn’t a Gryffindor? Or a Hufflepuff? He could live with Ravenclaw, but Slytherin… Gran was a Slytherin, but Ted still thought his parents would disapprove of it, despite his father telling him repeatedly that it didn’t matter, as long as he got good grades and was happy. 

The doors swung open with an almighty groan and Professor Sinistra led them through into the Great Hall. 

Ted had been in the Great Hall before, when he was little and his Dad took him to see the castle during school holidays. But that was no preparation for seeing the Hall done up in full regalia. 

Large banners for all four houses hung on either side of the immense room, and their shining colors of red, blue, yellow and green were reflected in the windows that framed the walls. Before there were scrubbed wooden tables crammed full of students and hundreds of floating candles danced around the room. Above them stretched a massive sky of stars and constellations and a shining waxing moon full of blues and purples and gold. 

The High Table stood on the far wall, sat above the other tables on a small platform. Ted could see his father, now wearing smartly-pressed navy robes, seated between a round faced witch with short, curly red hair and a much-younger professor that Ted instantly recognized as Neville Longbottom. Neville had joined the Hogwarts staff the previous year as the Herbology professor, much to Remus’ delight for his former student. Remus caught Ted’s eye and, to Ted’s embarrassment, waved. Ted tried to smile back, through he was sure it came off more as a grimace. 

A stately looking witch in emerald green robes - Headmistress McGonagall - tapped the side of her glass with her wand and the ring silenced the students with three sharp taps. All eyes turned to the approaching first years and Ted felt his stomach drop out of his body. 

Professor Sinistra stopped before the staff table, taking the two steps up to stand on the platform. A short professor - Flitwick? - came up levitating a simple wooden stool and holding a large cream scroll and a battered looking wizard’s hat. Sinistra took the hat and scroll from him and Flitwick settled the chair in the middle of the platform. On top of the stool she put the patched hat 

For a nauseating second, there was complete silence. Then a rip near the brim opened and, to Ted’s bemusement, the hat began to sing: 

_Oh, times are trying ever still,_  
Though the Dark Lord is long and gone,  
The shadows spread far and long  
Darkness piercing the dawn 

_There comes a day when everyone,_  
_Must pick their banner to fly,_  
_To fight the masters of dark and light_  
_And pick when and where to die._

_Do you run with the pride of Gryffindor?_  
_Far more noble than the rest,_  
_They wear their armor of bravery with joy,_  
_Heroes forever blessed;_

_You may join the ranks of Hufflepuff,_  
_Defenders of the Realm_  
_Marching side by side they go_  
_Determination at the helm;_

_Or fly with clever Ravenclaw,_  
_To seize the night while young,_  
_Cast out foolishness with a careful hand,_  
_Wit burning on their tongue;_

_Perhaps your loyalty lies with Slytherin_  
_The cunning never die,_  
_Ride with them to the end of the world._  
_Throwing all caution to the sky._

_Don’t worry about where you fit,_  
_I’ll be sure to pick the best._  
_For if you fall amongst your friends_  
_The House will be at rest._  


As the hat finished and settled back into an unassuming position, the entire house burst into applause; the first years’ clapping was rather subdued and confused. 

“Bit dark, don’t you think?” Marcus muttered to Herrington and Ted. “Wonder if it’s always like that.” Ted couldn’t help but agree as he looked back at his father. Remus appeared unconcerned by the hat’s foreboding song as he gazed expectantly at Professor Sinistra. 

“When I call your name,” Sinistra said as she uncurled the scroll. “You will come up and take your seat on the table and the Sorting Hat will decide your House.” She looked down at the parchment and began to read names. 

“Abraham, Jessica!” 

A dark skinned girl with large dark eyes scurried out from the group of first years and sat down on the stool. Ted couldn’t help but think she looked terrified. Sinistra placed the hat on her head, and then there was a moment of silence before the hat’s brim opened again and it bellowed, “GRYFFINDOR!” 

The table on the far right of the hall exploded in applause and screams and Jessica Abraham bounded over to join her house, looking far more relieved now that her Sorting was over. 

“Burke, Floyd!” 

Floyd stalked over the stool, hands in his pockets and scowling. The hat barely touched his dark hair before it declared, “SLYTHERIN!”

“Saw that one coming,” Marcus said under his breath as a grinning Floyd marched over to his cheering SLytherin housemates. Ted couldn’t help but agree. Floyd Burke seemed exactly the type of Slytherin he’d been told by Ron Weasley to avoid. At the Slytherin table, Ted could see Teresa Travers clapping politely as Floyd took his seat.

A “Caddigan, Christian” became the first Hufflepuff, while “Conrad, Michael” joined Floyd at the Slytherin table and the blonde girl with the braids, “Fagel, Mary-Elizabeth,” became a Hufflepuff. “González, Reyna” nearly sprinted over to the Gryffindor table and was swept into a crushing hug by an older student that looked as if she could be Reyna’s sister. 

“Hendricks, Paul!”

“Oh no,” Paul whispered. 

“You got this!” Hendricks cheered as Paul stumbled up to the chair. Professor Sinistra placed the hat on his hat and Ted thought he could see Paul’s lips moving in a prayer. Or a swear, he couldn’t tell. 

“HUFFLEPUFF!” 

Paul looked relieved as the Hufflepuff table cheered for him. A tall seventh year clapped him on the back and Paul nearly fell over. He shot a grin to Marcus, Herrington and Ted.

Ted gave him a thumbs-up, then looked back at the sorting ceremony, where a small girl in a headscarf had just been sorting into Gryffindor. The Hat seemed to be going pretty quickly through the sorting; it was nearly halfway done now. Though that may be because there weren't’ many of them to start with. When the redheaded boy, "Lars, Dennis" joined the Ravenclaw table and “Le, Daniel” was sorted into Gryffindor, Ted thought with a horrible feeling that it wasn’t long before it was his turn. And sure enough… 

“Lupin, Edward!” 

As Ted stepped out of the crowd, he saw his father lean forward in interest. The older werewolf beamed at him, and beside him, Neville also smiled encouragingly. 

Ted sat down nervously on the stool, facing out the crowd. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the Gryffindor table looking at him expectantly. Of course, they knew he’d be a Gryffindor, what with his father being the Remus Lupin. Then Professor Sinistra dropped the hat over his head and all he could see was the dark inside of the hat. 

“Ah, a Lupin,” a small voice croaked in his ear. “I was wondering when you’d find your way to me. Now let’s see… A good mind, yes very talented. There’s your mother’s gifts.. And, goodness you are brave. Just like your father. Very interesting. You’re very proud of him, aren’t you?”  
Of course I am, Ted thought. He’s my father.

“No, it’s more than that… Very interesting. A drive to prove yourself, to prove them all wrong…”

 _Not Slytherin_ , Ted wanted to scream. _Not Slytherin._

“Calm down, boy. You wouldn’t do in Slytherin. They’d eat you alive. No, I think the best place for you is… HUFFLEPUFF!” 

It took Ted a moment to realize the Sorting Hat shouted the last word outloud to the Hall, and that the Hufflepuff table had erupted into a roaring mass of black and gold. He stood and walked shakily to the table; a group of older students massed around him and bellowed, “WE GOT LUPIN’S KID! WE GOT LUPIN’S KID.” 

“Eat ass, Gryffindor!” A tall boy shouted across the hall. Ted could see the Gryffindor table looked slightly dejected, but good-naturedly throwing insults back at the Hufflepuffs. Ted craned his head to look at the high table, searching for his father. Remus was standing, the only professor to do so thus far at tonight's Sorting, and was clapping loudly. He caught Ted’s eye and his smile impossibly widened. Ted could almost hear his father’s quiet voice in his ear, “Well, I guess I owe your mother some money now, don’t I?” And Ted almost laughed out loud. He collapsed in a seat next to Paul, who was applauding with the rest of the hall. 

There were still students to go. Herrington and Marcus were looking more nervous now that they hadn’t been sorted. A small girl with mousy brown hair nearly looked like she was about to pass out as Professor Sinistra called her name, “Nguyen, Aimee!” She burst into tears when she was sorted into Ravenclaw and had to be guided to the table by Professor Flitwick. 

Loretta Selwyn sat on the stool for nearly five minutes before the hat placed her in Slytherin and she flounced over the table, pointedly ignoring Floyd Burke's jeers. And then it was Herrington’s turn. He was pale-faced by now, and Ted tried to smile encouragingly at him. A second later, the hat shouted “GRYFFINDOR!” and Ted cheered as Herrington, looking a little stunned at his placement, tripped over to the Gryffindor table. 

“Walsh, Marcus!” 

Marcus let out a whoop as he was also sorted into Gryffindor and gave the hall a sweeping bow as he made his way to the Gryffindor table. No other students were now waiting to be sorted, and Ted couldn’t help but feel relieved. His stomach growled and by the looks on other students’ faces, he wasn’t the only one ready to eat. 

Professor McGonagall stood at the high table, her emerald robes sweeping across the dark wooden table. “Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts! Before we begin, I’d like to make a few announcements. First, I’d like to remind everyone, especially our first years and a few of our seventh year Gryffindors,” she said dryly, casting a pointed look at the table in question. “That the forest grounds are off-limits for all students. Quidditch trials will be held in several weeks; anyone interested in playing should contact your Head of House.” She indicated the professors. “Professor Flitwick for Ravenclaw, Professor Slughorn for Slytherin,” a stout balding man with an impressive mustache, “Professor Corcoran for Hufflepuff,” the witch sitting next to Ted’s father, “ and Professor Lupin for Gryffindor.” Remus gave a wave as Professor McGonagall said his name. 

“Class schedules will be handed out tomorrow at breakfast,” she continued. “Please be prompt and prefects, be sure to aid first years in getting to class. Lastly…” Professor McGonagall trailed off for a moment and her eyes flashed to Remus for a brief moment, before she composed herself. “We have been asked by the Ministry to make aware of the safety precautions put in place this to protect our staff and student body.”

All of the nausea that Ted had forgotten rushed back into his body with a horrible, roaring thud. He could barely breath, his hands clutched at the sides of the table and his eyes were locked onto his shoes. Paul prodded him in the arm, asking if he was okay, but Ted could barely hear him. 

“As many of you should know, Professor Lupin takes extreme precautions every month during the full moon.” Whispers rushed through the hall as first-years who had not been aware of Remus' condition turned to look at the professor in alarm. Older students hushed them to silence or fill them in with hurried whispers as Professor McGonagall pushed forward. “He takes great care to ensure that no accidents should occur during that night of the month, by transforming off the school grounds and spending a day after in recovery. The Ministry feels it prudent to reassure you all that the same precautions will be extended to his son, Edward.” 

Ted could feel every eye in the Great Hall turn on him, could hear shocked whispers around him. Somewhere in the Hall, something was dropped and the thud echoed around the room with a terrible noise that seemed to pierce the quietness.

“Oh _fuck_ \- “ 

“I didn’t think it could be genetic?” 

“You think Lupin bit him?”

“Merlin, I hope not - “ 

“ - not sure if I want to live with something like that - “ 

“Don’t listen to them, mate,” Paul whispered, placing a comforting hand on Ted’s arm. “Just block them out.” 

Ted tried, but the murmurs sounded like screams against his ears. _Merlin, he couldn’t do this._

“I trust,” Professor McGonagall was saying. “That you will be as welcoming to Edward as you have been to Professor Lupin. If any of the staff hears otherwise, the consequences will be severe, I guarantee it.” Ted looked up in time to see her face darken for a moment before she stepped back. “And now, let us eat!” 

The plates before them suddenly filled with food, piles and piles of carved ham and potatoes and greens and carrots and chicken and so much more that Ted began to lose track. But the hunger that Ted had seemed to disappear; he wanted no more than to leave the Hall and to crawl into his bed at home and sleep for a hundred years.

“Mashed potatoes, Lupin?” 

A boy with shoulder length blonde hair that he had tied back in a ponytail - he looked to be a fifth-year - was extended a plate to him and smiling kindly. 

“Um, sure.” Ted watched silently as the teenage wizard began to spoon large amounts of potatoes onto his plate. 

“I’m Ozwald. Ozwald Spencer,” he said. “But people call me Oz. This is Jasmine Gomez.” He nudged the girl sitting next to him. She wore her dark hair long and streaked with red. She grinned at Ted, her mouth warping slightly around the thick piercing in her lower lip.

“And that’s Rahul Chopra,” Oz went on, pointing across the table to a tall boy with thick curly hair. Rahul threw his hands up into a peace sign. “We just wanted to say, well. We’re big fans of Professor Lupin.”

“He’s the best,” Jasmine added. 

“Right.” Oz nodded. “And you look like an alright kid. So, if anyone gives you any shit, just let us know, alright?”

Ted flushed, looking down at his plate. “Um.”

“I’m serious, Edward,” Oz said rather seriously, jabbing a spoon full of potato at him. “You just let us know.” 

“Right. I’ll, er...I’ll do that. And I go by Ted, by the way.”

“You look like more of a Ted than an Edward,” Jasmine mused. 

“Be nice, Jas,” Rahul said, flicking a green bean at her. She dodged, laughing and threw a carrot back at him. 

“Oh, get a room, you two,” Oz muttered, scooting away from Jasmine. “Sorry about them,” he apologized to Ted. “They’re idiots.”

Ted couldn’t help but laugh. “This, er, this is Paul. He’s a first year too.” 

Paul and Oz shook hands and Jasmine threw another carrot at Rahul. 

The feast passed relatively uneventfully, and Ted managed to find an appetite despite his constant discomfort at the stares that lingered throughout the entire dinner. Several students, most of them Gryffindors, came up to introduce themselves and say the same thing that Oz had. If he had even a hint of a rough time, tell them and they’d take care of it. Other students didn’t look at him at all. Cristian Caddigan, the other Hufflepuff boy in their year, left to join his friends at the Ravenclaw table and refused to look at Ted. 

Herrington and Marcus came over to congratulate Ted and Paul on their sorting and promise to compare schedules tomorrow before they headed back to the Gryffindor table; they seemed content to not even mention Headmistress McGonagall's announcement and Ted was grateful. Mary-Elizabeth Fagel appeared nervous at first, but quickly warmed up and began a steady stream of complaints at her being the only Hufflepuff girl in her year. 

“It’s going to be awful,” she moaned, burying her face in her hands. “God, what am I going to do? I’m going to have absolutely no friends!”

“I’ll be your friend, Mary-Elizabeth,” Paul said and the witch promptly dissolved into tears. 

“I can’t have my only friend be a boy!” She wailed. “I’ll go insane!” 

Paul looked rather alarmed at the crying girl and looked wildly around at Ted for help. 

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Ted said awkwardly. “At least you get a big room! Think of that. All to yourself.”

Mary-Elizabeth looked up at him, her nose pink and trailing snot. “I guess -” She hiccuped. “I guess that’s true!” 

“And you’re guaranteed to be the year’s favorite Hufflepuff girl,” Paul added kindly. 

Mary-Elizabeth giggled. “That’s also true!” She wiped her eyes. “Thanks you guys!”

Reyna González, one of the first-year Gryffindors, slowly approached the table. “Hey. Mary-Elizabeth, right? We were wondering if you maybe wanted to come sit with us at the Gryffindor table? No offense to you ‘Puffs,” she said to Ted and Paul with a sly grin. “But we thought Mary-Elizabeth might like to have some female friends!” 

Mary-Elizabeth burst into renewed tears and Reyna instantly looked as if she regretted coming over to the Hufflepuff table at all. “I’d love that!” Mary-Elizabeth sobbed, standing up from the table. “I’d love that so much.” 

Over at the Gryffindor table, Ted could see two other first-years - Jessica Abraham and Noor Hussain - looking rather aghast at Mary-Elizabeth. 

“Come on, mate,” Reyna mumbled, taking Mary Elizabeth by the arm. “Let’s go.” She led the sobbing girl away and, Ted noticed, as he watched the two girls walk to the Gryffindor table, that there seemed to be a lot of house mingling. Ravenclaws sitting at the Slytherin table, a group of Gryffindors had migrated to the Hufflepuff table. There were even a few Gryffindors seated at the Slytherin table. 

“You alright, young Mr. Lupin?” A quiet voice in Ted’s ear asked. 

The Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff, was floating near him, pearly white eyes fixed on Ted. He was a stout man with a crown of thinning hair and his tunic was plain. Or, Ted reminded himself, he had been a stout man. He was a ghost, after all. 

“Is it normal for the students to sit all together?” He asked, indicating the hall with a sweep of his head. 

The Friar regarded the Great Hall with a frown. “More common recently, then before…” He said in a slow voice. 

“Before?”

“Before the War.” The Friar pursed his lips. “So many students lost...so much. Friends, family. It became important to take care of each other. The students felt that...their friendships here were an important to ensure that nothing like that ever happen again.” He considered Ted. “I imagine your year will be even closer.”

“Why would you say that?”

“You are the first class since the War,” the Friar said simply. “It is why there are so few of you. So few children born that year…” He looked off, down the Hufflepuff table with a lost look. And then he floated away. 

Ted stared after the ghost, watching at he passed through the Ravenclaw table, startling several students right out of their seats. 

“Sorry about him,” Oz said. “He’s...he’s odd. The War apparently messed him up pretty badly.” 

“Really?” Ted mused. That would make sense… So many people lost their lives on the grounds, in the castle, in this very room. Voldemort himself was felled in this very room. 

His eyes found his father at the high table. Remus was deep in conversation with Neville Longbottom, his dinner half-eaten and abandoned in front of him. It was nearing the moon, Ted thought absently, his gaze trailing away from his father to regard the luminescent spectre hanging in the Great Hall's ceiling. His father’s appetite always decreased in the days before, then jumped up rapidly the day of. 

Remus had fought on these grounds, defended students that he had once taught. He had seen friends die here, nearly been killed himself, if the stories were to be believed. Did he have nightmares like the Friar? Did he worry about the future of the school? Would there be another Wizarding War?

Ted shook his head and took another bite of food, trying to push back the sandpaper feeling of it as he swallowed. There wouldn’t be another war. The Death Eaters were in Azkaban, Voldemort was defeated. Hogwarts was safe now. 

He was sure of it.

___

 

The Hufflepuff common Room was located in the lower levels of Hogwarts and, as Roger MacMillan, the boisterous Hufflepuff prefect announced to them, right next to the kitchens. 

“Very convenient for late night snacks,” he told the new Hufflepuffs wisely. 

There were only four of them, but Roger was speaking to them as if they were a group of fifty. Mary-Elizabeth had tried to speak to Cristian Caddigan, a short boy with copper skin and close-cropped black hair, but he had brushed her off with a scowl. He did not seem pleased with his house placement and spent most of the walk staring at his shoes in silence. 

Roger led them to the end of a long corridor, where they stopped before a large stack of wooden barrels. 

“Watch this carefully,” Roger said to them. He swept his sleeves out in a grand manner and expertly tapped on one of the barrels in the middle of the second row five times. There was brief moment of silence and then a low rumble as the barrels began to move. They split in the middle and then rotated, spinning and moving outward to reveal a round entrance to a earthy passage that smoothly sloped upwards. 

"You have to tap it in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff,' " Roger said in a stage whisper. "Else it just won't let you in." 

They followed Roger through the passage for a short while until it opened up into a massive room, brightly lit and so full of yellow that Ted felt as if he was momentarily blinded. 

It was a round room with a low-hanging ceiling, the walls set with honey color wooden panels and cheery yellow and black banners. A highly-polished heavy wooden table stood in the middle and was covered with fresh parchment and fresh pots of ink. Bookshelves, curved to fit into the walls, covered the walls and were decorated with an eclectic collection of cacti, dandelions and succulents sitting in pots decorated with cheerful paint designs and ribbons and, in some cases, colorfully knitted wrappings. Some of the cacti appeared to be moving and, indeed as Ted looked closer, they began to dance and wave to them in their vivid potted houses. Hanging from the ceiling were yet more potted plants, these ones dark leafy-green vines with tendrils that brushed the ground or hung mid-way down in the air. Through small, round windows just level with the floor, Ted could see grass and brushes from the outside grounds.

On either side of a carved wooden mantelpiece (above which was a large portrait of a round-face, plump women in ornate robes, who Ted assumed was Helga Hufflepuff from the way she smiled warmly at him.) were two round doors with badger-shaped handles. Roger came to stop in front of the mantelpiece and leaned against it casually with one arm. Ted thought that it made him look like a prick, but he figured Roger thought himself pretty cool. 

“Those are the doors to the dormitories,” Roger said. “Girls, er, I mean, girl on the left, and boys on the right. Mary-Elizabeth, you’re the second on the right. Boys, same to you.” He smiled at the group, looking rather misty-eyed. “Get to bed, you crazy kids. No fighting! I mean it. Really. No fighting. Please.” 

Paul led Ted and Cristian through the right-hand door, where they found themselves in another long hallway with a low ceiling and warm torches placed along the wall. More round doors were on both walls, three on either side and a seventh door at the end of the corridor. The second door swung open at Paul’s touch, revealing a homely room with three wooden bedsteads covered with colorful patchwork quilts. Their trunks had already been brought up and were waiting by the beds for them. Bastet was curled on one bed, and opened one eye to look grumpily at them. 

Ted couldn’t help but feel as if the room looked a little forlorn with just three beds in it. He dropped onto his head and gently traced one of the flower-like patches on the bedspread. 

“It’ll be weird with just the three of us in here,” Paul said quietly, his mind seemingly in the same place as Ted’s. “I wish there was a bigger year.”

“Yeah, well you should just leave then,” Cristian muttered as he undid his tie. 

Ted frowned at the boy. “What does that mean?”

Cristian stared at his bed, still fumbling with his tie. “Nothing.” 

“You have a problem with Paul?”

“No. But I have a problem with you.” 

Ted stood up from the bed, temper flaring. “Do you?” 

Cristian wouldn’t look at him. “Forget about it.”

“No, I wanna know. What’s your problem with me?” Ted folded his arms in front of his chest. 

“I think you know what it is.” 

“Cause I’m a werewolf.” 

“Ted,” Paul warned, putting a hand on Ted’s shoulder. “Just forget about him.”

“You shouldn’t be friends with him,” Cristian said to Paul. “He’s dangerous.”

Paul’s hand on Ted tightened for a moment. Then he spoke again. “Maybe he is. But don’t you think you should at least give him a chance?” 

Ted jerked out of Paul’s grip and turned back to his bed. His head was throbbing, the nausea was back. Again, he thought longingly of his bed at home, with the familiar-smelling sheets and his fluffy blankets that Bastet always liked to get tangled in. The sounds of his mother’s music floating through the Lupin’s small house, punk rock one day and classical music the next, mixed with this father’s quiet laughter and, when he was around, Sirius’ rough chuckles. Suddenly, the dorm looked a lot less cozy than before. 

“Whatever, mate.” Cristian had thrown back the covers and gotten into bed. “Whatever.” He turned away from them and pulled the quilt nearly over his head. 

Paul looked despairingly at Ted. “Teddy…” 

“Forget about it, Paul,” Ted mumbled. Bastet uncurled himself from sleep and began to paw at Ted’s arm until he consented and scratched behind the cat’s ears. “Thanks anyway.” 

Paul’s face was half-hidden in shadow, the light catching on his glasses, but Ted could still make out the other boy’s pursed lips. “If...well.” He clamped his mouth shut. “It’ll get better.” 

“Sure it will,” Ted agreed, though the lurch of his stomach spoke otherwise. “Night, Paul.” 

“Night, Ted,” Paul said after a moment. 

Ted heard the sounds of Paul changing, brushing his teeth in the small bathroom connected to the dorm, getting into bed. He stood there for a long while still softly petting the now-purring Bastet, until he lay down in bed fully clothed and promptly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot will kick off soon, I promise. This is just the necessary set-up, essential for any "First Year at Hogwarts" fic - hah!


	3. Chapter 3

Ted woke the next morning after a fitful night, before Paul and Cristian; he could see through a window that the sun was just coming up, its dim rays giving the room a grey hue. Bastet was curled around his arm and made a noise of complaint as Ted slid out from under the quilt. 

He stood under the spray of the shower for a long while, letting the water and soap trail down his neck and back. _Breakfast, then classes._ He sighed and turned off the water. 

Stepping out of the tub, Ted wrapped himself in one of the butter colored towels that he found in one of the cabinets under the black marble sink, savoring for a moment the heat of the Ever-Warming Charm that had been placed on it, presumably by one of the house-elves. 

The house elves had also taken care to lay out the black-and-yellow regalia of Hufflepuff on the desks beside the bed. Silky ties and knit scarves and even a striped bobble cap. 

Paul was still sound asleep, Ted noted as he dressed quietly. The other young wizard slept curled inward on himself, his strawberry-blonde curls tangled in a nest around his head and face screwed up with worry. Cristian, also resoundly still in sleep, was barely visible under his quilt; Ted could only see the top of his forehead and his black hair. 

Ted looked at the boy for a moment, almost wishing that Cristian would wake suddenly and look at him. But Cristian did not wake and Ted finished dressing in silence. He paused on his way out of the door, catching sight of himself in a mirror setup beside Paul’s bed. Tall, lanky and pale, the rings of exhaustion darkening the skin below his eyes.

The moon was just two nights away and Ted could start to feel the familiar ache deep, deep in his bones and muscles. His head gave a painful throb and he could barely, just every so slightly, feel the wolf brush against his mind. Ted thought for a moment, considering himself, and then morphed his hair to a pale lemon color. Satisfied with this change, he headed downstairs.

The Great Hall was still mostly empty when he arrived; breakfast had begun and food was set out, everything from eggs to sausage and bacon to fresh fruit piled high on the tables. A group of older Gryffindors that Ted did not know looked up as he entered and waved, and he could see Reyna and Noor, two of the other first years, laughing to themselves over their eggs. 

The High Table was the only table that was mostly full. Ted guessed that most professors liked to eat earlier so that they could plan lessons and set-up for a day of classes. Indeed, his father was making marks in a journal that Ted recognized as his lesson planner, and stirring a cup of tea absentmindedly with the other hand.

For a moment, Ted debated going up to the High Table to see his father. There was something about the man’s presence that Ted found overwhelmingly comforting. Ted’s stomach was doing somersaults at the thought of classes that day, of other students reacting like Cristian did - or worse. But he turned away from the High Table and sat down alone at the Hufflepuff table. 

Professor Corcoran, the Muggle Studies professor and Head of Hufflepuff, hurried up to him as he walked the length of the Great Hall and handed him a schedule of his classes, cheerily wished him luck and, in a more stern tone, told him to come directly to her office if he had any questions or concerns. Ted had to fight back a sigh; these constant assurances and well-wishes were getting on his nerves. So he just thanked her and promised that she would be the first he would come to.

Ted wasn’t particularly hungry at all, in fact he felt as if he might hurl if he ate anything. He nibbled at a slice of toast and pushed diced tomatoes around his plate absentmindedly with his fork.

“Nervous?”

Ted looked up to see his father, journal and newspaper tucked under one arm and holding two cups of tea. The professor smiled at his son, who managed a feeble twitch of the lips in return. 

“Kind of,” Ted mumbled. 

Remus placed the two cups in front of Ted and sat down, and swung one of his legs over so that he was straddling the bench and faced Ted. The werewolf’s face creased into a slight frown. 

“Knut for your thoughts?” When Ted was quiet, Remus chuckled. “Goodness, are today’s thoughts really worth a whole sickle? Dare I offer up a galleon?” 

Ted smiled humorlessly. “Cristian doesn’t like me.” 

“Cristian?” 

“He’s one of the other Hufflepuffs in my year.” 

Remus didn’t speak again for a few moments. When he did, his voice was quiet. “I see.” 

“He wouldn't even look at me last night,” Ted went on, scraping his fork over his plate. “And he called me dangerous. Which is true,” he added when Remus opened his mouth. “But… I don’t know. It was weird.” 

“And what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Hm.” Remus pushed one of the cups of tea towards him. “Drink.” 

“I don’t want any tea,” Ted muttered, but he took the cup anyways. _Darjeeling_. Of course. Sirius had brought home a box of the stuff from his trip to India last year and Remus was slowly but surely going through the lot of it. 

“Have you gotten your classes, yet?” 

For the first time, Ted looked down at his schedule. The parchment were marked in a careful script - neat, bold lines and color coded for each class. 

“Potions, first… Then History of Magic, Transfiguration and Defense - that’ll be nice - and then Astronomy tonight.” Ted sighed a little. He had just woken up and was already feeling exhaustion ebbing at his nerves; by tonight he’d be ready to drop. 

“Schedule looks fine,” Remus mused, peering over Ted’s shoulder to peer at the schedule. “Merlin help you in Potions. I fear my abysmal lack of talent may overpower your mother’s abilities.” 

“Mhm.” 

The pair fell silent again, and Ted felt Remus’ hand start to rub comforting circles into his back. 

“You’ll do fine. And if you have any problems - “ 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ted interrupted sourly. “I’ll come talk to you and everyone else.” 

Remus abruptly drew his hand back. “I know this is difficult, Edward. But that’s no reason to be rude.”

Ted flushed. His father only called him Edward when he was really annoyed. “Sorry. It’s just - “ 

“Oi, Ted!” 

Herrington and Marcus were hurrying down the center aisle of the Great Hall, the former dragging a harried looking Paul. Herrington’s red-and-gold tie flapped undone around his collar and his shirt was untucked. Herrington hiked a leg over the Ravenclaw table to cross to Hufflepuff, narrowly risking overturning a tower of bagels. Marcus rolled his eyes and continued down the hall to round the table’s end before heading back to the Lupin pair. 

“I’m technically not allowed to give you detention until class starts,” Remus said dryly. “But I may make an exception.” 

“Oh, sorry sir!” Herrington sat down next to Ted with a loud thunk. "Just really excited to see Ted here!" A second later, Marcus and Paul joined the group; Marcus leaned casually against Herrington with a sleepy grin. Paul smiled at Remus and Ted and adjusted his glasses nervously. 

Remus arched an eyebrow at Ted. “Friends of yours?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s - well, you met Paul. And that’s Marcus Walsh and - “ 

“Herrington Travers!” Herrington interrupted, beaming up at Remus. “Real honor to meet you sir!” 

Remus blinked, taken aback by the first years’ enthusiasm. “Well, thank you Herrington. I’m sure it’ll be a pleasure to get to know you this school year.” He stood, gathering up his papers and cup, taking Ted’s half-drunk mug of tea as well. “I’ll be seeing you boys later today in class. And, Ted -” He placed a hand on Ted’s shoulder. “Stop by my office after lunch, if you can.” He smiled again at the group of young wizards, before briskly heading off down the aisle out of the Hall. 

“Your dad is kind of odd,” Marcus said to Ted. 

Ted snorted. “Yeah, he’s a total weirdo. Mum says it’s endearing, but my uncle says it's just annoying.” 

Paul took a seat next to Ted and began helping himself to a bowl of strawberries in front of them. “Why did your dad ask you to see him later?” 

“Oh.” Ted hesitated. “It’s nothing… It’s just, er… Full moon is this week. And - “ He coughed. “Dad has my - our - Wolfsbane.” 

Paul’s eyes dropped to his plate. “Oh. Well. If you want someone to come…” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Right.” 

“Oh sweet,” Herrington said, catching sight of Ted’s schedule. “We have classes together. Defense and - “ He made a face. “History of Magic.” 

“What’s the problem with History of Magic?” Paul asked, looking between Ted and Herrington. When neither boy answered, his expression turned distinctly more concerned and he repeated, in a lower voice, “Guys, what’s the problem with History of Magic?”

____

History of Magic, as it turned out, was the single most boring subject known to wizardkind. It was taught by old Professor Binns, who was an actual ghost. Ted had thought his mum had been joking when she told him the story of the History of Magic professor who got up one day from a nap and left his body behind, but he guessed not.

Ted’s pounding headache seemed to have been joined by a wicked stomachache; he slumped forward, as if it would help lessen the pain, and his mind drifted to other classes of the day. 

The morning’s class - Potions with the Ravenclaws - had been enjoyable enough. Professor Slughorn had seemed overly fond of Ted at the beginning of class, but it hadn’t lasted long.

“Oh, you do look so much like your father,” the Potions Professor had gushed, peering at Ted through his small pince-nez spectacles. “I remember when I taught him when he was just a lad - such a bright lad. I wonder, though, if perhaps you have your mother’s talents in potion-making, rather than your father’s,er, lack thereof.” 

Ted, unfortunately, did not seem to have his mother’s talents. After a rather abysmal attempt at a Cure for Boils brew that ended up looking more like a sickly color of puce and smelled strongly of cabbage, Professor Slughorn wandered away from Ted to instead admire Margaret Rose’s perfectly pink concoction. Ted felt bad - Slughorn had such high hopes for him. But the scent of the onions and nettles had been nearly overwhelming and Ted had spent most of his time trying desperately not to hurl into his cauldron.

Ted had looked over, craning with the rest of the class see the Margaret Rose's potion and had accidentally brushed his arm against Dennis Lars. Dennis had pulled away with a full-body flinch, and would have knocked his cauldron over had Professor Slughorn had not righted it with a simple flick of his wand. 

“Sorry, Professor,” Dennis mumbled as Professor Slughorn admonished him for being so clumsy. Dennis looked nervously at Ted and, when the end of class bell rang, gathered up his materials and books and hurried out of class without a backward glance. Ted had stared at his shoes until Paul gently nudged him and said that they would be late for History of Magic.

“...and in 1764 in Lanark, Urg the Unclean began the next goblin rebellion that we will cover this semester…” 

Beside him, Marcus’ head hit the desk. “This is terrible,” he moaned. “I never thought that I could be so bored.” 

“Cheer up, mate,” Herrington whispered from the desk behind them. “You’ve only got seven years of it.”

Marcus’ groans became louder and, somehow still, Professor Binns droned on. 

“I thought it’d be more interesting,” Paul muttered as he flipped through their book, _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot. “Even the book is dull.” 

“It’s not that bad,” Ted said, look over his shoulder at the bespectacled young wizard. “The book is alright.”

Paul looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious? This thing is dryer than the Sahara Desert.”

On the other side of the classroom, Daniel Le and Jessica Abraham were locked in a conversation of furious whispers. 

“ - God, that’s the werewolf’s kid,right?” 

“Isn’t the moon coming up?” 

“Sh, quiet, Daniel - he may hear you!” 

“Yeah, well - “ Ted’s stomach gave another awful lurch. “Oh, damn…” He breathed, turning face to the front and bracing his suddenly sweaty palms against the surface of the desk.

“You okay?” Marcus asked, leaning in to squint anxiously at Ted.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Ted closed his eyes. _Shit._ He raised his hand. “Professor Binns?”

The ghost paused, luminescent eyes coming to rest on Ted. “Yes, Mr... “ He paused. 

“Lupin. May I use the restroom?” 

Professor Binns opened and closed his mouth several times. Clearly, he had not been anticipating a student interrupting his lecture. Finally, he slowly said, “You may.” 

“Great,” Ted muttered. He hastened from the room, ignoring Marcus’ questioning look and Herrington’s offer to come with. Out of the room, down the corridor, around the corner. Ted barely made it into the bathroom stall before his stomach emptied itself. Ted gagged once, bile clogging his throat, before he sagged against the side of the stall and groaned out loud, clutching at his stomach. Then, Ted felt his insides give another roll and he launched himself at the toilet again. 

Sickness before the moon was not an uncommon thing for him. And with the anxiety he’d been feeling all day… To be honest, Ted had been wondering how long it’d take before he was pelting for the bathrooms to dispel today’s breakfast.

He didn’t know how long he was in the stall, resting his head against the porcelain rim, relishing in the feel of the cold touch on his skin.   
.   
“Hey, Ted? You in here, mate?” Herrington’s voice drifted through the bathroom and Ted felt his shoulders sag in defeat. 

“Just a mo’” Ted croaked. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, scowling at the bile and spittle he saw there. Standing, he straightened his tie and tucked in his shirt. He didn’t see any mess on his sleeve, thank Merlin. That would have been a nightmare trying to get out. And he didn’t need any more embarrassment for the day. 

Herrington stood just outside the stall, leaning against a sink with his hands in his pockets and both his and Ted’s bookbags slung over his shoulder. Upon seeing Ted, he straightened. “Hey! You alright?” 

Ted nodded and moved towards the sink. He splashed some water on his face and tried to to look at his haggard reflection. Even his hair, now faded to brown, seemed limp and washed out. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Herrington observed. 

Ted glowered at him and held his hand out for the bag. “I’m really okay. Normal moon stuff, mate. Thanks for getting my stuff.”

Herrington passed the bag over, eyeing Ted with a frown. “Yeah. You going to be okay for Transfiguration and Defense.”

_Damn, they still had Defence._ Ted had the bite back the urge to bang his head into the mirror. One look at him and Dad would know instantly what was up. And Ted hated worrying his father, especially before the moon. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need to get some more food in me.” 

“I don’t know if food is gonna be ,” Herrington said as he led Ted out of the bathroom and into a now busy corridor. Paul and Marcus were sitting on the sill of a large window across from the bathroom and both stood as the two boys excited. 

“I’m fine,” Ted said when Marcus opened his mouth. “Really. Perfectly fine.” 

Herrington nudged Paul. “Give Lupin some water, would you?” 

“Uh, yeah! Sure!” Paul fumbled around in his bag for a second before he pulled dout a bright blue, muggle water bottle. 

Ted welcomed the water, letting it trickle down the back of his throat and wash away the bitter taste lingering there. 

Marcus puffed his chest out and brandished his wand out as if it were a sword, and he said to the group: “Onwards, good lads!” 

Paul and Herrington laughed and Ted forced himself to smile, despite the ever persistent growing knot in his stomach. 

____

Food, as it turns out, was not what Ted needed. He picked at a plate of spaghetti and fresh rolls that he was sure was in fact delicious, but the only thing he could smell was a cloying, nauseating stench. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and take a long nap. Ted’s headache had returned in full-force and he closed his eyes against the bright sunlight filtering into the Great Hall. On cue, his stomach gave an awful lurch and he nearly retched. 

“I’m going to go grab some fresh air,” he said to Paul, who was tucking into a slice of apple pie beside him. Ted stood, then swayed, one arm braced against the table and Paul looked a alarmed. 

“Oh - okay! One second, let me finish this and then we can get Marcus and Herrington and - “ 

“Hey, watch it, werewolf!” 

A pair of arms shoved Ted forward, back towards the Hufflepuff table, and Ted’s hand plunged into a plate of butter in his scramble to halt his fall. 

Floyd Burke stood there, flanked by two burly looking second-year Slytherins. All three leered at Ted, and Floyd’s mouth cracked into a wicked grin.

“What, moon got your tongue, Wolf?” 

“Shove off, Floyd,” Paul snapped, jabbing his fork into his pie with a scowl. “He didn’t do anything to you.” 

“Not yet. You can never trust mutts.”

“No, that’s - “ 

“What, you like him?” 

“Yeah, he’s nice to me!” 

“He’s an animal, you fag. Him and his dad both.” 

Ted hands clenched on the tabletop, butter squelching around his fingers. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the blood rushing through his veins. His head gave another almighty throb and, again, the wolf pushed at his consciousness. Just a brush, but it was enough to make Ted want to scream. 

“And so what?” Paul was standing as well now, hands on hips and spitting hair out of his mouth. Herrington and Marcus had also made their way over from the Gryffindor table and were standing behind Paul with scowls of their own. Marcus looked about ready to hex the Slytherin. 

“So - that’s?” 

“That’s enough, Floyd.” 

Burke and the two second-year brutes turned, his threatening composure breaking for the first time. Halfway down the aisle was a tall, slender Slytherin fifth year, dark hair long and tied back into a long ponytail. The unknown older wizard raised a delicately manicured eyebrow at the group of first years, before calling out to Burke in a silky voice: 

“Come along, Floyd. You don’t need to lower yourselves to speak to the blood-traitors and the Lupin mutt.” 

Floyd shot another dirty look at Paul before he started to walk back up the length of the Great Hall. But, not before he gave Ted one more shove of his shoulders that knocked Ted painfully against the table. 

“I'll be seeing you around. Better watch your step, _wolf_.” 

Ted stood there for a long moment, hand still in the butter plate and breaths short in his chest, before the three other first years’ voices reached out to him. 

“You alright, mate? I wonder who that older prat was.” 

“Merlin, what a tosser. Just forget about him, Ted.”

“Yeah, totally.” 

Ted forced a smile onto his face and turned to face his friends. “Yeah, he’s such a tosser!”

Paul looked relieved. “Geez, you almost scared me there! You looked really, really mad for a second! Your eyes looked almost golden there!” 

“Did they?” Ted asked weakly. “Trick of the light, maybe? Hey,” he started before Paul could speak again. “I gotta go see my Dad, remember? So I’m going to - “ 

“We’ll come!” Marcus cried. “I want to talk your dad before lessons start!”

“Same,” Herrington agreed. “Man, what I’d give for him as a father." 

Ted inwardly sighed. He had hoped to take a quick walk around the courtyard, just to catch his breath and even out his mindspace, before he went to Dad’s office. “Alright,” he said as he began to gather his bookbag. “Let’s go!” 

___

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was tucked away at the top of one of the largest towers of Hogwarts, at the top of a tall winding staircase. Ted had been in his father’s classroom often, though never when school was in session. Still, as he walked in with Marcus, Paul and Herrington, he was familiar with the cavernous room with iron-gated windows set into the walls, and the large dragon skeleton hanging from the high vaulted ceiling. Stacks of defense spell books and parchment were scattered around the room and a tank, containing a swampy mess and a wispy creature that Ted recognized as a hinky-punk, was balanced precariously on the front table. 

His father had a rather macabre fascination with dark creatures. His mother always said, “The darker and more dangerous, the happier Remus Lupin will be.” And after living over a decade with the man and having to deal with the constant trail of various dark creatures being kept in the family study (and Mum’s instance against them), Ted was inclined to agree. 

The professor in question was levitating a hefty-looking trunk to the front of the room, and Ted started when the trunk gave an almighty rattle. Remus’ hand on his wand tightened and the trunk dropped to the ground with a clunk! Beside Ted, Paul flinched at the loud noise. 

Remus turned and caught sight of the four first-years and smiled. 

“Ah, there you are,” he said, pocketing his wand. “I was wondering if you’d come. And you brought friends.” Remus looked questioningly at Ted for a moment, clearly expecting Ted to have come alone, then gestured to the back of the room to where a short staircase led to a door was half-cracked open into another room. Ted followed his father up the staircase, Marcus, Paul and Herrington trailing behind the two, and the group entered into the DADA office. 

His dad’s office was just as haphazard as the classroom, with towers of books set around the room with seemingly random order. It very much resembled, Ted thought, Dad’s office at home.

A shelf along the wall held many photographs that waved to Ted as he peered at them. He could see a photo of him, Mum, Dad and Sirius from when he was still small enough to be hoisted on top of Dad’s shoulders, and the family had gone to a warm beach in the south of France. There was another, a simple portrait of a slender blonde woman that Ted knew to be his grandmother Hope, Dad’s mother. Near the back was a collection of photos, both magical and muggle, of four boys that Ted recognized instantly to be his father, Sirius and Harry’s father, James Potter. 

_Dad was a sentimental old sap._ That’s what Sirius always said when he found Ted looking at similar photos they had around the Lupin household. The photos littered the hallway and living room and decorated the surfaces in the bedroom and office. Some were from Dad’s youth, but there were also photos of Mum from when she was young and dancing her way through London, and photos of the Order and so many photos of Ted. 

“Always the photographer,” Sirius would say, looking at the photos fondly. “That’s why he’s in so few of them. This one though - this is a good one.“ And he would always point to a large framed photo that Dad had placed on the mantel piece, a photo from James and Lily Potter’s wedding. Dad wore neat black dress robes and he smiled broadly from his place as a groomsman between a very young Sirius and a short blonde man called Peter Pettigrew. Dad didn’t talk a lot about Peter - something about the first Wizarding War that nobody liked to mention in front of Dad or Sirius. But the photos with Peter remained and nobody said a word.

In the Defense office, the family owl, a large barn owl called Aurora, was perched on the great carved chair behind the desk and softly hooted at Ted as he entered.

“Was that a boggart?” Ted asked, referencing the trunk out in the main classroom. 

Remus crossed behind the desk and began to rummage through one of the cabinets. “Yes. I always start the third years out with boggarts.” He looked up at Ted with twinkling eyes. “You four have that to look forward to. It’s a popular lesson.” 

“What’s a boggart?” Paul wondered. 

“It’s a shapeshifter, a Dark spirit,” Remus replied as he straightened, now holding two large, corked vials of murky potion. The potion sloshed unpleasantly around in its container, swirls of green and grey and the faintest flecks of glowing silver. 

“Is that - ?” Herrington asked as Ted stepped forward to take one of the vials. 

Remus smiled again, but it had lost much of its warmth, now a thin-lipped thing that pulled his face at odd angles. He was starting to look ill, Ted thought. His father usually looked tired, lycanthropy having tattooed permanent shadows on his face, but even just from this morning, his eyes were started to droop and his skin had taken on a slightly pale, almost waxy, sheen to it. 

“You okay?” He asked quietly, voice pitched low enough so only Ted could hear. 

Ted nodded and, with a furtive look at the three other first-years hovering in the door frame, uncorked the vial. Pale blue smoke poured out and Ted was instantly hit with the smell of rotting flesh. Dad had uncorked the other bottle, and also winced at the unpleasant smell. 

Both werewolves met eyes, then downed the potion in one go. 

The potion tasted just as it smelled, like rancid eggs and mold and raw meat all in one, and it slid down Ted’s throat with the texture of old porridge. His stomach reeled and Ted sat down hard on one of the chairs in front of the desk. 

“Is it really that bad?” Herrington asked dubiously. The Gryffindor fell silent at Marcus’ warning look and merely looked at Ted, who had his head braced between his legs as he tried not to puke. Behind Herrington, Marcus and Paul looked as if they were trying very hard not to oogle. 

“It’s certainly not pleasant,” Remus said and he vanished both phials with a wave of his hand. “Now, I daresay you boys ought to be preparing for your next class. But I do believe I will be seeing you all shortly in my class.” 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Very good, Herrington. Off you go! Don’t want to be late! Most professors have little patience for tardiness. But one moment, Ted. A word, please.” 

Ted carefully studied the ground as Herrington, Marcus and Paul filed out of the room. Remus took a seat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk and gestured for Ted to take the other. After a moment of deliberation, Ted conceded and dropped his knapsack to the ground beside the chair with a heavy thud. He sat, swinging his legs back and forth, almost nervous at the forthcoming conversation. 

“You usually don’t look this ill before the moon,” Remus began.

Ted shrugged. “I’m not that sick. Just normal nausea.” 

“You’ve lost your color,” Remus said bluntly. “In your hair. I didn’t want to say anything, but…” 

“It’s just anxiety about starting classes,” Ted interrupted. “It’s fine, Dad. Really.” He closed his eyes, thinking for a moment, but found that he could not bring himself to morph his hair away from its natural brown. 

Remus was silent, his hands folded in his lap and his long legs cross in front of him. He considered his son for a long and pained moment before he spoke again. “Ted, you would tell me if something happened, wouldn’t?” 

“Yeah,” Ted said. “Of course, Dad.” 

His father pursed his lips, clearly not at all convinced. 

“It’s really not a problem,” Ted said sullenly. “Just some kids being stupid.” 

“Stupid?”

“Yeah.” 

“What did they say?”

“Just little stuff.” 

“Like what?” 

“Just stuff. Forget I said anything.”

“Edward - “ 

Ted stood up. “Dad, I said it’s nothing!” He snatched his bag up from the floor. “I have to get to Transfiguration.” He crossed to the door, but then paused. He turned and looked over his shoulder, smiling slightly. “Really, Dad. Nothing I can’t handle.” And then he left, leaving his father alone in his office. 

______

Remus watched his son leave, his hands shoved in his pockets and hair still a dull shade of brown. He tapped his fingers absentmindedly on his thigh for a moment, before he rose from his chair and strode to the fireplace. He took a handful of floo powder from the pot on the mantle, threw it into the fire, and promptly stuck his head into the roaring green flames, clearly speaking the destination as he did so. 

“I’m worried about Ted,” he announced once the living room materialized around him. 

Sirius glanced over from his place on the couch, where he had apparently been in the midst of dozing. He frowned at the fireplace, where his best friend’s head at just appeared. 

“When are you not worried about him?” He heaved himself into sitting position. “Tonks isn’t here, if you wanted to speak to her.” 

“No, I’ll talk to her when I get home tonight… I think he’s having a rough time.”

“You thought that he might,” Sirius reminded him. 

“He’s not talking to me,” Remus said, ignoring Sirius’ words. “It’s like he’s...embarrassed. Or scared. I can’t place it. He’s shutting me out.” 

“Doesn’t that sound familiar,” Sirius drawled. “What?” He asked when Remus fixed him with a hard glare. “It’s in Lupin genetics to bottle emotions up when things go south.” 

“I don’t - “ 

“You do.” 

“Fine," Remus muttered "But it’s not like him to not talk to me. We usually can’t shut him up.”

“He’s never had to deal with something like this before,” Sirius said, running a hand through his long black hair. “New school, meeting so many new people...having everyone know he’s a werewolf. It’s new territory for him. But you handled it, and so can he.” He leaned back on the sofa and propped his feet up on the arm, getting comfortable.

“Don’t you have an expensive flat to get back to?” Remus said skeptically. 

“Yeah, but your couch is more broken-in than mine,” Sirius smirked, eyes closed. “Plus, Tonks said she’d pick up curry tonight.”

“Right.” 

Sirius cracked an eye open so that he could meet Remus’ eyes. “Really, Moony. Give the kid some credit. He’s got you and Tonks as parents. He’ll be okay.” 

“Write to him, won’t you?” Remus asked, voice strained. “Maybe he’ll open up to you. Or Harry. And I’ll talk to Dora - “ 

“I'll write him. Bu stop worrying so much, you tosser,” Sirius interrupted. “It’s only the first day of classes. Everyone is nervous on their first day.” 

Remus had to agree with that. He could remember his first day of classes, being a nervous wreck and nearly breaking down after Professor Flitwick asked him if he wanted a glass of water. Sirius was right. This was just normal nerves. They all knew that there would be a period of adjustment, both for Ted to the school and the school to Ted. And with the moon so close… Remus pushed down his remaining shred of doubt and instead asked Sirius, “Did Dora mention when she’d be home tonight?” 

“Mhm. Late. Some poor sod turned up dead in Knockturn. They think it was just a mugging gone wrong,” Sirius said hurriedly, seeing Remus open his mouth to question. “Pretty standard, apparently. As far as murders go.”

Remus frowned, but did not question more. He’d have to ask Dora about it later. Something distantly around him, back at Hogwarts, shifted and he could hear voices start to creep up behind him. “I should probably go. Class will be starting in a few minutes.” 

“Don’t want to keep the kiddos waiting,” Sirius agreed, settling back in the couch. “Me? I think it’s high time for a nap.” 

Remus laughed, then pulled his head out the fire. His office formed around him, comfortable and familiar. He could hear the babble of students - third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs - and stood to gather himself for the lesson. But, as he headed down to the classroom, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unrest about Ted. 

_Sirius is right._ He reminded himself. He just needed to calm down. He was overreacting. If something was wrong, Ted would talk to him. 

He was sure of it.


End file.
